A**hole
by Nathander
Summary: A tale through the eyes of Johnny's prey. Will possibly be multi-chapter if I get enough reviews.


Asshole  
  
By Nathander  
  
There I was, just minding my own goddamn business when it hit the fan. I don't think anyone expected it, and that's why none of us were ready for it. Maybe we deserved; probably, according to that son of a bitch, some of us deserved it, but maybe not all of us.  
  
It all started this Saturday. Davis, my best friend, and myself were just outside Café le Prick, just having a cig like we usually did. We had finished our coffee and started talking about the newest trends and the fags who tried to make themselves look like they were as hip as we are.  
  
Or, to be more specific, were.  
  
Anyway, it was a nice night, and some guy just outside had settled down with a acoustic guitar in his hands and, seemingly playing well enough, had warranted the attention of a hottie. Me and Davis watched the spectacle for a little while, and then turned back to our discussion, though not before Davis sneered and said "I could kick that guy's ass playin' a guitar, you know that." It was supposed to be a statement, but it sounded more like a question to me.  
  
"Yeah, I know dude." I said, humoring him. He'd get like this very easily. I was preparing myself for a full-on discussion of his musical and sexual prowess, when HE appeared.  
  
I tried to stop myself from doing it, but when Davis started gauking, I couldn't help myself. I mean, SHIT, if everyone else in this world so poorly dressed, we'd be screwed. I mean JESUS, he looks like he's trying to pull of a gothic look, and he fails miserably. And his hair...CHRIST! Only thing fashionable about him was his headset, even though all headsets are pretty much 50-dollar pieces of shit anyway. Though I will admit his boots were sort of cool, and his backpack was neat.  
  
Dammit, why do I keep getting off track? Anyway, back to the story. So he's passing us by, and Davis says to him "Hey, do you have a cigarette?" I was confused by what he was going at, as he had two more goddamn packs in his pocket. Then it struck me; he was trying to measure the guy up, trying to see how "trendy" he was.  
  
So then, the guy says to us "No, I don't smoke." The guy's voice took me back. It sounded whispy, like smoke calmly drifting through the still air from my cigarette, yet it sounded sort of....attractive. Almost calm and collected, though there was a bit of a nervous shudder behind it. Wow, that one part about his voice made me sound gay.  
  
So then the guy turns his headset up all the way, and I can hear Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" blaring. The guy just went on his merry way. Davis obviously didn't think he could hear him, so he says to me, snickering "You hear that? Only pussies don't smoke." I smirked a little bit, almost even agreeing with him a little bit.  
  
And then, the guy turns his head towards us. I don't know how, but I could swear he could hear us. So he walks back up to us and just stares at us for a bit. Then he says, "I was just going to pass this place by, in favor of the dance club up the street." A pause and then a small smirk "I'll do the club tomorrow." And with that, he went through the doors to the café. Another guy past by us through the doors, right on the guys heels. I quickly turned to Davis and said "What the fuck was that?"  
  
Davis opened his mouth to reply when we heard the guy's voice from inside, it becoming a boom. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" He began, and he reminded me of one of those fucking circus guys. You know, the people who cry out "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Prepare yourselves for the most fantaboulous feats this side of the seven seas!" You know, shit like that.  
  
So Davis and myself look through the giant window behind us into the café, and we see the guy standing on top of a chair, his backpack in his right hand and the rest of the café looking at him. He continued. "I am, presently, unsure as to how to separate those of you who have fed my growing distaste for mankind, from those who, thus far, have not."  
  
Davis said, lightly "Psh. Just a stupid goth." He said it just to convince himself, I'm sure of it, cause it was obvious he wasn't talking to me."  
  
He went on. "However, it is with far more certainty that I know such a problem will NOT be factored in to what I will share with ALL of you here tonight." My eyes went wide and my cigarette dropped from my mouth onto the concrete as the guy pulled a knife out of his backpack.  
  
Davis laughed a little bit, nervously. "Heheh, just a goth thing. Yep, that's it. Just some new goth thing."  
  
Well, it sure the hell wasn't some new goth thing when the guy jumps and twirls around, and cuts the guy behind him head clean off, screaming "YOU TRIED TO TRIP ME ONCE!!" Immediately, he went to the guy closest to him in a chair, unaware that somebody had just pulled out a knife. The guy with the funky hair grabs the guy by his upper lip and pulls it up, forcing his mouth open. Then the crazy son of a bitch takes his knife and shoves it through the guy's skull, the blade going out his mouth, this time screaming "I HATE YOUR TIE!!"  
  
My God, at that minute I wanted to run, to get the fuck out of dodge. I was sure the guy was going to spot Davis and me and jump through the window with a knife in each hand and dissect us in an especially messy way like lab frogs and scream "YOU CALLED ME A PUSSY!" and "I'M ESPECIALLY TURNED OFF BY YOUR HAIR!!" But we where glued to the spot. You know, the whole "watching a car wreck" syndrome. But this wasn't a fuckin' car wreck, it was a fucking killing spree.  
  
By this time, a bunch of people had head towards the door. Somehow, the fuck got there first and pulled out two hooks. The people trying to retreat immediately headed the other way, two of them getting caught by the hooks, the guy screaming "SMILES, EVERYBODY! SMILES!!", laughing the whole time. He jerked the hooks, HARD, and one of the people's nose were split in two and the other lost a chunk of her cheek.  
  
The crazy immediately spotted Tim, a black friend of ours, and hurled a cleaver, it striking him right above the mouth, and screamed out "You BITCH about equal treatment as a human being, but you and your friends laugh at me for the way I LOOK!" The crazy then headed towards the bathroom and then left it, an explosion following him. After that, he leaned upon a table that had been turned over in all the pandemonium, panting like somebody who just went through the Tour De Force.  
  
One guy immediately cried out "LOOK, HE'S STOPPING!!" And another one said "Maybe he's realizing the horrors he's just committed!!!"  
  
The crazy just put up a hand and another hand on his headphones, saying "No.no, the CD's skipping.wait.wait.okay, there it goes." And hit the last guy who had talked with the disemboweled head of the first guy he killed. He picked up a coffee mug and headed over to the counter, pulling up the guy behind the counter by the hair and slamming him across the mouth with a coffee mug, shouting "You think you're cool BECAUE YOU WORK AT A CAFÉ!!"  
  
And finally, the assault stopped. He laid his backpack on the ground and stepped on top of a pile of dead bodies. "And so, irritants, it is with this that I leave you. You are spared so that you can think of what it really is to live in a world that engenders a pain for which there is no comfort. Here is your product! You have the rest of your lives to think of this." The guy stood up straight and backed up towards the door. "And I suggest you think quickly, for a long life is never a guarantee." And he immediately ran out the door.  
  
Davis and me followed suit, running as quickly as we could the other way from the café, which exploded as we ran. I don't know what was going through Davis' mind, but I know what was going through my mind. It was the multiplication tables. Let's see; usually, the café has 24 people there, and today they surprisingly had double. Twenty-four times two is forty- eight people. So the fuck killed 48 people in one day. And there had been other mysterious killings, like the flower vendor the other day who had all his blood drained and nobody caught the guy who did it. It was probably ol' crazy back there in the café. ...........................................  
  
That was a year ago, and I've started to get my life back on track. Started going to church and stopped smoking as much. I've even worked on my attitude. So has Davis. There are only two things we both agree on about that day. The first was that it DEFIANTELY happened, not some crazy illusion we had. The second was that it was a sign, and we were meant to see it. Maybe God was saying, "Hey, you see this? Keep it up, and you're going to be just as fucked."  
  
I mean, what if, this guy was some sort of angel of death? Like a holy avenger for God trying to weed out all the mistakes of humanity. I don't know why, but I was almost...compelled to follow him.  
  
And I DID meet him again. It was just the other day in fact. I was walking through the park to go over to my girlfriend's house, who REALLY was a girlfriend, not just one of the one-night stands I had isolated myself to for the past three years. She is a great gal, and it was almost ironic that we met in a dance club. Her name is Tess.  
  
Anyway, back to yesterday. So I was passing through the park, and that's when I saw HIM. He was sitting there, just sitting there on a park bench, slurping on a cherry brainfreezy. I'll tell you, I was almost ready to wet my when I saw him. I wanted to turn tail and run the other way, but I was determined to face this semi head-on. So I closed my eyes, and walked right past him.  
  
Or, I almost walked right past him. I stopped in my tracks as I heard him say "Don't I know you?" at that point, I knew for sure that it was him. It was the exact same voice I heard a year ago, exact same voice I had nightmares about. I gulped, and slowly turned around and responded "N..no, I don't believe I ever met you before."  
  
He raised an eyebrow, as if saying 'you sure you want to tell me that?' before he said "You sure? I'm positive I've seen you somewhere." At this point, he got up from the bench and started walking towards me. If I had gained control of my legs, I would have ran. Instead, I collapsed to the ground and started sobbing. "Okay, okay, I saw you once before! At the café! But I've changed! I swear to God I have! I haven't gone to a café since then! Oh please GOD don't kill me!"  
  
The guy raised his eyebrow at me again. "That so huh?" he said, almost challenging the statement. "Well, that's certainly nice to hear." He extended his hand towards me, to help me up off the ground. Reluctantly, I grabbed it after examining it for at least a minute, making sure he couldn't easily flick a switchblade or something out into it and stab me right in the throat. "My name's Johnny, but you can call me Nny." He said, almost casually as if we were old friends and not a killer talking to an old witness to a crime he could still be convicted of.  
  
"James Weissman." I said, quickly as if the whole name was a single word. I wasn't as nervous as before, but I was still trying to be cautious of him.  
  
"Well, it's nice to actually meet you James." He said, a smile creeping on his face. I don't know how to explain it, but I sorta liked and hated his smile. It was sort of like the small of a character from an old Disney movie, the Cheshire Cat.  
  
"Er..thanks." I said, smiling a little bit nervously myself. Maybe he really was trying to get me to warm up to him, but I sense there was an ulterior motive behind it.  
  
"So, you've really changed huh? Just out of curiosity James, where are you headed?" he asked, resting the head on the palm of his right hand, still grasping the brainfreezy in the left.  
  
"Well, I was headed.." I stopped for a moment as he noisily slurped the remains of his brainfreezy. He stopped to see that doing this was a distraction, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry." He said. "Please continue."  
  
"Like I was saying, I was headed towards my girlfriend, Tess', house, and..."  
  
His eyes went wide and he raised a hand, telling me to stop. "Excuse, what did you say the name of your girlfriend is again?"  
  
"Er..Tess. Why?" I said. He put his right hand over his mouth and closed his eyes slightly, as if reminiscing on something. I was almost ready to take this moment to bolt, until he began to speak. "And she's really your girlfriend?" He said.  
  
"Well, yeah. We've been going out a month now." Ol' Johnny crossed the fingers of his hands together, obviously dwelling on something. He smiled towards me and said "Well, that's just great. Enjoy your night tonight, and we'll begin tomorrow." He began to walk away.  
  
I was shocked. Begin tomorrow? What the blue fuck was he talking about? "Hey! Wait up!" I cried out. He turned around to face me, his eyebrow once again raised in question. "What do you mean 'begin tomorrow'?" I asked.  
  
He smiled that Cheshire Cat-esque smile. "The test, to see if you really have changed m'boy. It'll begin tomorrow morning. If it turns out that you're telling the truth, then you have my blessing and get to go scott free, only seeing me on friendly occasions."  
  
There was a catch to this, and I knew it. "And if I'm not?"  
  
"If you're bullshitting me," he said, still giving that smile "I'll kill you. Though you shouldn't be nervous if you truly are sincere."  
  
And with that, he left, finishing up his brainfreezy and swiftly and accurately throwing it into a garbage can. I myself headed towards test, pondering on all the possible outcomes of the next day. What if HE was the one bullshitting me, and he'd just kill me anyway, covering his tracks. And what the hell was this test going to be? All I know is its tomorrow.  
  
Wish me luck everybody. I have a feeling I'm going to need as much as I can get. ...........................................  
  
So, what did you all think? I'm thinking of continuing the story, the next chapter detailing the beginning of Nny's 'test' as if to see if James really has changed or if he's still an asshole. If you'd like to see it continued, please give me reviews telling me so. 


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